Chapter 8
Emerson
The Lughnasadh festival fills Main Street with the scent of funnel cake and the sound of Celtic music. Darius and I weave through the crowd, his hand warm on the small of my back as we navigate between booths selling handmade crafts and local art.
"This is amazing," I say, stopping at a booth displaying intricate silver jewelry. The pieces catch the late afternoon sunlight, sending sparkles across the vendor's table.
"See something you like?" The vendor asks.
"Everything," I breathe, running my finger along a delicate bracelet with turquoise stones that matches my hair.
"Selwyn makes gorgeous jewelry," Darius says, stepping closer behind me. "Selwyn, this is Emerson. She's new to Sea Glass."
"Ah, welcome," the vendor says with a warm smile. "The turquoise suits you perfectly."
Darius pulls out his wallet. "We'll take it."
"Darius, no," I start, but he's already handing over the money.
"Consider it a housewarming gift," he says, fastening the bracelet around my wrist. His fingers linger on my skin, sending shivers up my arm.
"Thank you," I whisper, admiring how the stones catch the light. "It's beautiful."
We continue through the festival, sharing a plate of mini fruit tarts and watching a group of dancers perform traditional Irish steps. I'm laughing at something Darius said when I hear a familiar voice behind me.
"Well, well, if it isn't our runaway bride."
I turn to see Lady Merla approaching with another woman.
"Lady Merla," I say, feeling my cheeks warm. "How are you?"
"Wonderful, dear. Fleur, this is Emerson. She recently came into my shop." She gestures to her companion. "And this must be your rescuer," she adds, looking at Darius with knowing violet-blue eyes.
"Darius," he says, extending his hand to both women.
Merla studies us with that mystical intensity I remember from the tea reading. "The energy between you two is quite strong," she observes. "The universe is pleased."
Darius and I exchange glances, and I feel heat rise in my cheeks.
"We should let you enjoy the festival," I blurt.
"Of course, dear. But remember what the leaves told us," Lady Merla says with a wink before disappearing into the crowd.
Darius and I find ourselves at the fried dough stand, the awkwardness of the psychic's comments hanging between us. He orders two pieces, and we find a quiet spot on a bench overlooking the festival.
"About what she said," I begin, tearing off a piece of the warm, sugar-dusted dough.
"Emerson," he says at the same time.
We both laugh nervously.
"You first," I say.
He takes a deep breath. "I know we haven't known each other long, but I can't stop thinking about you.
The way you laugh, how brave you were running from that wedding, how you light up when you talk about your dreams." He pauses, looking out at the crowd.
"I'm falling for you, and it scares the hell out of me. "
My heart pounds as I set down the fried dough. "I was going to say the same thing. I've never felt like this before, Darius. Not even with my ex-fiancé. You make me feel like I can be myself completely."
He turns to face me, his eyes intense. "Really?"
"Really." I reach for his hand. "I'm falling for you too."
The confession hangs in the air between us, charged with possibility. Without another word, we're both standing, abandoning our fried dough and rushing through the crowd.
"Your place or mine?" He asks, his voice rough with want.
"Mine. It's closer," I say breathlessly. "Though it's still mostly boxes."
"I don't care about boxes," he murmurs, pulling me closer as we hurry toward my new townhouse, the festival sounds fading behind us.
I fumble with my keys, my heart pounding in my chest as Darius stands close behind me, his breath warm on my neck.
The door finally gives way, and we stumble inside, a tangle of limbs and urgency.
The entryway is a maze of moving boxes, but we don't care.
We kick off our shoes, not bothering to turn on more than a single lamp, casting long shadows that dance across the walls.
Darius' hands are on my waist, pulling me against him as his mouth finds mine. His kiss is demanding, and I respond with equal fervor. I wrap my arms around him while our tongues explore each other's mouths. His lips taste sweet, with a hint of berries.
He walks me backward until my calves hit the edge of a box, and I sit down abruptly, the impact sending a thrill through me. Darius leans down as he continues to devour my mouth. His hands roam my body, tracing the curves of my hips and the swell of my breasts. I arch into his touch, wanting more.
Needing more.
I pull at his shirt, and he obliges, breaking our kiss only long enough to yank it over his head. My hands explore his chest, the hard planes of his muscles, the light dusting of hair that trails down his stomach. He's beautiful, and I can't get enough.
He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me further into the room, laying me down gently on a makeshift bed of blankets and pillows. He hovers over me, his eyes dark with desire as he takes in every inch of my body.
"You're so beautiful, Emerson," Darius murmurs, his voice husky. "I've wanted this since the moment I saw you."
I reach up, pulling him down to me, our bodies aligning perfectly as he settles between my thighs. I can feel his hardness pressing against me, and I rock my hips, earning a groan from deep in his chest.
He reaches between us, his fingers deftly unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down my legs. I kick them off, eager to be rid of the barrier between us. He takes a moment to admire me, his eyes roaming over my body, and I feel a flush of heat spread through me under his gaze.
"Darius," I whisper, my voice breathless with need. "I want you."
He doesn't make me wait any longer. Darius sheds the rest of his clothes, and I watch, my breath catching in my throat at the sight of him. He's perfect, every inch of him, and I can't believe he's here with me.
Climbing onto me, his weight pressing me into the blankets as his mouth finds mine once more. I can feel him, hard and ready, pressing against my wet, puffy lips, and I lift my hips, urging him on.
Darius enters me slowly, inch by inch, filling me completely. I moan, my head falling back as I savor the sensation of him stretching the walls of my pussy. He stills for a moment, giving me time to adjust, but I'm beyond ready. I wrap my legs around him, urging him to go deeper, faster.
He obliges, his hips moving in a rhythm that has me crying out with each thrust. The room fills with the sounds of our bodies slapping against each other. My orgasm builds as he brings me closer and closer to the edge.
"Darius," I gasp, my nails digging into his back. "I'm close."
He changes his angle, hitting that sweet spot that sends stars exploding behind my eyes. I burst, my body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure crash over me. He follows soon after, his body tensing as he finds his own release, my name a moan on his lips.
We collapse together, completely spent. He rolls off me, pulling me into his arms as we lie there, and my fingers lazily walk along his sweaty brown skin.
"Wow," I breathe, a soft laugh escaping my lips.
Darius kisses the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. "Yeah. Wow."
We lie there, entwined in each other's arms, surrounded by boxes and the remnants of our passion. At that moment, nothing else matters. It's just us, our bodies sated, our hearts full.
And I know, without a doubt, that this is just the beginning.